Always time for a new beginning

As the clock ticks inexorably towards midnight on the last day of another year, the world is frantically thinking of resolutions that will make them better, happier, more successful, healthier people. As if! There are no resolutions broken quicker than New Year's and this is possibly because we only choose one day and set the bar too high.
Every day is a new year with the opportunity to make a new start. The best start is to look after your body through simple, nutritious eating and conscious consumption. There is no truer saying than 'a minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips' You are what you eat and drink. It's going to take a while to melt years of fat accumulation to an acceptable level for your own comfort (two very important words). Don't worry about scales; let your clothes be your measure of success.
Once the nutrition is under control, health will be on an upward trend without you even realising it. You will find that those daily aches and pains have lessened in intensity and become less frequent. You may have even not thought of a doctor or chemist for a while.
With a new lightness of being comes a new lightness of heart, a better outlook on life and the possibility of enjoying the simple things in life that bring great joy. Do it all at your own pace and it will last a lifetime.
Tomorrow is a good time to begin.

How times change!

The southeaster has come back to Cape Town after a long absence and today has been an absolute scorcher. Back in the 70s, such weather would have meant a day at Clifton. stretched out on the pristine white sand in my tanga, turning a warm golden colour, the nearby sea too cold to even contemplate swimming. Or hanging out on the rocks at Kommetjie, where the sea was just as uninviting, but still catching that tan in that tanga!

Forty years on, and I'm still hanging out on the rocks at Kommetjie. Clifton is the furthest thing from my mind, with traffic and crowds undreamt of in our youth making it an undesirable spot. And definitely no tanga! 

The coolest place today was in the kitchen, where I took advantage of a rush of blood to the head to make fruit slices and a large lemon meringue pie. A scratch through the depths of the refrigerator revealed vast quantities of wilting vegetables and assorted leftovers and soon all kinds of things were cooking, including me. It's time for a new start of a new year, one where we don't buy anything we're not going to eat or wear or use. Clearing the fridge is a good place to start, and the family will be well fed for a few days. Pity none of it is on my menu!

Missing those lightning raids!

As I lie in comfortable repose under the coprosma, where twittering birds feed greedily gobble its sweet, sticky berries, I am reminded that we couldn't always enjoy outdoor dozing without having one eye open. Nor could we leave our doors and windows open to let the cooling sea breeze dissipate the heat of summer. And no, I am not referring to being rid of petty pilferers and brazen burglars, but rather the random raids of the cheeky chacma, the local baboon species that is being mercilessly dealt with to suit the lifestyle of its sometimes questionably intelligent cousin - man.
These light-footed and light-fingered interlopers could spot a lunchtime al fresco spread from their lookout point high on the rocks of Slangkop, and before the chops had a chance to cool, their comical faces would be peeking over the wall, their eyes on the main chance. With everyone rushing around like headless chickens closing doors and windows and scooping up platters of food, it was easy pickings as dexterous fingers and amazing athleticism would see the garlic bread tucked under an armpit and chicken being chomped on the neighbour's roof before the dogs could bark and give fruitless chase. Disdainful glares would greet the shouts and banging of pot lids, and spraying with a hose just added to the general chaos.
Having not had a baboon raid in three years now, such scenes have all but disappeared from our memories. How easily we accept the 'perfect solution' when it results in an easy life for man at the cost of the wild animals whose territory we have invaded.
I miss those adrenalin rushes and helpless laughter after close encounters with these intelligent beings whose only crime has been to learn how to find food the easy way!

A musing

I have felt disinclined to share any thoughts with the world over the last week or so, as the complexities of our existence are difficult to put into words and should rather be described by our actions. Much of the animosity between mankind is born of unmet expectations, and blessed indeed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed. This little catchphrase goes much deeper than is immediately thought. It is not an excuse for disappointment, but rather an admonition to not judge others by our cultural beliefs and personal standards. Society has led us to believe that certain things must happen to make your life a success, when in fact we are all individuals and cannot be expected to react in the same way to events and experiences. Which led me to remember that the purpose of life is to experience it and every individual has chosen their own experience, whether it be wealth or poverty, hunger or feast, anger or compassion, tragedy or joy, war or peace, or a smooth and even path along the middle road. Some are just starting the journey and a few have reached the end and it is very true that life is about the journey, not the destination.
We cannot change the world by trying to change others. It will change when every individual lives through the soul and not the ego
When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.

Afloat in a boat

The drone of the skiboats leaving the slipway on the other side of the island roused me from uneasy slumber at 4.30. The rooster has gone and I had become accustomed to the early wake up call, so it's not unusual for me to be awake at that time without opening my eyes. But this morning a pink glow lured me out onto the balcony and I was richly rewarded by a gentle pink-tinged sunrise with accompanying flocks of sacred ibis crossing over from Hout Bay to forage along the shoreline near the lighthouse.

The sea has been unusually flat for a while with westerly breezes keeping us cool and the onshore drift brought the acrid scent of engine fumes across the water, mingling with the salty, kelpy, fishy smell of the sea.
It took me back to times when we used to go crayfishing on such still days. After dropping the nets, we would idle in neutral in case a rogue swell caught us unawares and in no time at all, those with no sea legs would be hurling over the side, spreading lokaas to attract Hottentot for a little fishing. Always greeted with much hilarity by those of us with stronger stomachs! Then the engines would be stilled, and we would bob quietly on the sea, enjoying the intense silence that can be found away from land, interrupted only by the soft lapping of tiny waves on the bow.
All those memories just from the whiff of engine fumes!

Ships that pass

Living next to the sea (almost) affords me a great opportunity to see a variety of sea-going vessels if I look out of the window often enough! The quality of the photos depends on the time of day and amount of haze - that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! (I believe I have already mentioned my request to Father Christmas is for a R20 000 camera.)
The window of opportunity to take these photos is literally that - the amount of time the ship takes to cross the much-reduced sea view. The tankers and container vessels are usually quite far out and I can set up the camera as I go outside onto the balcony, but the fishing boats and yachts are more challenging as they are just behind the reefs close off the island. I think that adds to the fun and excitement! Sometimes I miss altogether, but soon something else comes along.
The shapes are what make them interesting, and these provide quite a variety. A new thing I have noticed is that the container vessels have the stern well above the water - perhaps the captains were tired of the rumblings from the propeller shaft or whatever. Would be interesting to know!

Sunrise, sunset

I fear my current disappointment in the general state of the world and humanity has stripped my customary good humour and creativity from my being. I am speechless, but only because the things I wish to say would not be well received in all quarters, despite the great truths which must be told, and so I will refrain from making any statement, not because I care for opinion, but because it does nothing for my soul to dwell on such things, nor to put out negativity into the world. It shall pass. The sun will rise and set every day.

Dakota and a pigeon at play

Such a lot of aerial activity at the moment and from aeroplanes rather than birds! The Dakota that is a lone survivor of its era and flies the odd trip around the Peninsula has been past three times. On the first occasion, it was accompanied by four helicopters in close formation, and although they were flying extremely low as always and almost within spitting distance, the vagaries of cellphones and cameras did not allow me to get things set up in time to take a proper photo!

Just before sunset tonight the Dakota did another fly-by, this ime alone, and banked nicely as it passed the lighthouse, allowing us to see the inside lights and a top view of the wings. About fifteen minutes later it returned and again, despite the slowness of its flight in comparison to modern aircraft, a photo was not going to happen! Apparently they changed the engine a while back, and it no longer has that special Dakota sound that warned us of its approach over decades. I imagine it was taking a sunset flight down to Cape Point and back. 

We were also buzzed by two of those little silver jobs with red wing tips (Linden, I'm sure you can enlighten!), so perhaps there is some kind of airshow in the offing.

Another little bit of aerial activity took place on top of the domestic whirlybird on a nearby roof. I chanced to see a really funny sight - a pigeon sitting on the extractor going round and round and round and ... it really looked like it was enjoying it, rather like a playpark for pigeons - and carouselled for about 15 minutes before flying off to a more steady perch to regain its equilibrium. Just goes to show, pigeons also have fun!

The RetoHQ experience

The parking area is a construction site. Roadworks have been ongoing for maybe four years as the road between Fish Hoek and Muizenberg and underlying infrastructure have undergone a major upgrade. Trucks and bulldozers are part of the view. A stop/go system is in operation outside the front door, with tailbacks stretching as far as the eye can see.

As the heavy slatted outer door clicks softly open, I step inside to a haven of calm, cool greys in every shade, a decor that can only be described as 'class and style' and make my way upstairs to the salon where Reto is waiting with his magic scissors. Ultracool music sets the tone as I am given a guided tour of RetoHQ - not your average hairdresser's salon - and feel as though I have stepped into a spa for the day. On the other side of the road, the sea sparkles in False Bay, and it's my lucky day - dolphins are frolicking in the waves! My first 'live' dolphins!

 

 

 Soon I am reclining in a chair at the basin and almost fall asleep such is its comfort, as it lifts and tilts at exactly the right angle for the basin - I think I might go back every day just for a hairwash! Then under the knife (or rather, scissors) with Reto in his element, doing what he loves best. What a lifestyle - doing what you love in a place that defies what is happening outside in the street - you hear no sounds from the construction - amid surroundings that feed the soul and senses and with a view to die for.
He adjusted the airconditioning slightly - by opening the balcony door slightly wider to let in a little sea breeze - my kind of airconditioner!
It's no wonder that he spends much of the year in exotic places on various assignments. His enthusiasm and zest for life radiate towards all who surround him and you are not getting just a haircut. You are getting an experience!

Nourish or neglect?

I planted a rose in memory of my mother in a container on the deck, where I can see it every day. Before the rose, I grew tomatoes in it, and obviously lots of seeds remained to germinate. When new plants emerged, I transplanted some to another container, not wanting to smother the rose, but of course I didn't give that tomato any rose food granules, did I? After all, it's for roses. And I have to confess to not being much of a plant feeder, being inclined to let them battle for survival.

Along with the rose, I planted some lettuces as it looked quite lonely in the big container, and a few alyssum. Well, rose food is not just for roses. The lettuces grow visibly before my eyes and I can pick a salad every second day. The alyssum is cascading down the sides of the container and the tomato plant is four feet high. After its first bloom, the rose looked a bit quiet, but suddenly three new shoots have shot skywards, looking strong and promising further fine blooms in time for Christmas. It is a veritable jungle in a container!
Alas, the unfed tomato is but a mere seedling still, clinging to life on the other side of the deck. I am going to feed it today and have promised not to let it die.
As with everything in life, the way we treat things, whether people, animals, plants and even the earth we live on, has a huge effect on their wellbeing and very existence. Are we going to nourish and nurture, or neglect and abuse? The choice is ours.

Shine your light on the world

It saddens me to see people struggling through life, unaware of what it is really all about and so unable to smooth their own path. The most difficult thing to accept is that you cannot help those who will not be helped. Not for nothing was the old idiom 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink' written in the annals of history. There are none so deaf as those who will not hear.
No, you have to wait for someone to be ready to hear what you have to say, rather than try to convince them of anything that they are unable to accept as a possible alternative to what they have always believed. That is why I wrote "An Invitation to Think". I was compelled to put my thoughts in writing and make it available to the world, for anyone who might be interested in exploring the possibility that the world can be fixed and returned to being a place suitable for human habitation rather than continuing the downward spiral we are currently helter-skeltering down.
It is exactly what the title exhorts - an invitation to start looking at life from a new angle - one that you feel might well be better than you have been taught. After all, you are master of your own destiny, and if you don't see yourself as the hero of your own story, there isn't a chance that anyone else will. Our purpose is not to be one of a crowd, but to be an individual making a positive contribution to the whole. And it's never too late to start.
Every moment of every day is an opportunity to rewrite your story and become the shining light you are.

Smooth seas

We are sweltering in the heat here in Cape Town, and even down in Kommetjie at the edge of the sea, it is almost unbearable. There is not even a 2 inch swell on the Atlantic - yachts are moored in the kelp beds where normally massive breakers tumble. It's not often a yacht can moor at sea and the crew catch crayfish. It must be bliss on board - sundowners, a little pot boiling in the galley to cook the red gold and later the cracking open of the shells and legs to suck out the sweet sea-flavoured flesh. The only way to eat crayfish!
Those of us lucky enough to have lived through the times of unrestricted and plentiful supplies, before poaching robbed us of a delicacy free from the sea and a healthy pastime, can only relate stories like our parents did of the old days. I have photos of rows of cooked crayfish cooling on the fence at home, ready for a feast. Nowadays you would probably have to pay me to eat crayfish, unless it was aboard one of said yachts.
The intense heat seems to be a taste of a hot summer to come, and with water restrictions in the offing, it really is time to get the garden waterwise, despite plentiful underground resources. It seems such a waste to water masses of lawn that no one ever uses. If it were not such back-breaking work to dig up a lawn, I would do so and plant a meadow of wild flowers and flowering shrubs - wonderful for attracting birds and bees. Perhaps I should start chipping away at the edges....
But now it is braai time!

Bright lights for Spidey

I've put up the Christmas lights early this year - about three weeks early. Not the tree, note. Just the multi-coloured rope of lights that are wound around the struts of the deck, and I must say they are a cheery addition in these sometimes sombre days, where opportunities for play are few and far between. This is always the busiest time of year, when we try to catch up with all the things that should have been more evenly spaced throughout the year; even more so in Cape Town, traditionally a laid-back town.
The best way to survive the festive season is not to get caught up in the commercial aspect, which will free you from the need to do last-minute Christmas gift shopping or stocking up on haunches of a variety of animals and birds for a gluttonous feast from which you will take until New Year to recover. How many curries can you eat in a week of leftovers? However, let me not put you off if this is what you are looking forward to! Each to his own, etc.
I personally prefer a small selection of extra special goodies for the Christmas Eve meal and a day off cooking on Christmas Day. How else can you experience peace and goodwill unless you are parked off under a tree in a deckchair in the company of friends and family, the most exercise being to open the fridge door?
Here are the lights. Bietjie bont, ne? Somewhere in between those poles, my little spider is valiantly weaving his web to catch supper. Do you think he will enjoy his new multi-coloured, disco-light environment?

A rude awakening

I wouldn't say that 4.30 is the ideal time to wake up, but I have had some practice with the rooster crowing nearby. This morning it was caterwauling and a cat fight to end all cat fights that galvanised the household (some of us, anyway) into action. We rushed outside armed with a torch and turned on the outside lights as we prepared to rescue our kitties from the claws of a caracul or suchlike - only to find that it was light enough to see without the help of artificial means! The sky over the mountain was lightening to a shade of blue that didn't quite fit in with the scenario - directly overhead a half moon glowed through dark clouds. It was an eerie experience to see half the sky dark and half light.
The cats came running in for an early breakfast, completely unscathed, and it wouldn't surprise me if they had been fighting with each other. Back to bed, and time for a little chit-chat on social media with fellow insomniacs locally and abroad. By 5am the rooster was in full throat, so I caught up on reams of Twitter messages. By 6am I was ready for a snooze, but it was time to get up. A busy day ensued and now I am going out to a Toastmasters meeting, where I have to evaluate, meaning no lapse in concentration allowed!
Why does it always happen that I desperately need to sleep at the most inappropriate times?!
On the up side, it was really magnificent out in the garden at 4.30.

A new month, nearly a new year

What? December already? Where did the year go?

November passed without its customary gale-force southeasters, the fire season started early (arsonists crawling from the woodwork) and summer comes and goes on a daily basis. A new mall has opened in the South Peninsula - who knows why? A new set of robots appeared at the bottom of Ou Kaapse Weg.

Kommetjie has been a hive of activity. Sardines and whales gathered en masse. Fibre optic cables have been laid. The verges have been mown. Roads are tarred after years of gravel. Ongoing de-cluttering continues at home - making way for new things. The garden is undergoing a makeover and the roses are growing as never before..A new art gallery has opened and sales are good. The NSRI now has a brand new home near the bay, replacing the unsightly and dodgy public toilets and ensuring unhindered access in times of emergencies at sea..

After such a busy November, what can December bring? Holidays, end-of-year parties, Christmas celebrations, an opportunity for peace and goodwill? One can live in hope!

A community that cares.

Wow! Another day in Cape Town that reminds everyone why they live here - well, certainly in Kommetjie! Mirror-smooth sea, boats bobbing and trawling chugging back to harbour, looking well laden. Gentle drift off the sea to turn down the heat a little. Magic.
Earlier I had to go over the mountain and what a pleasure that was. The fynbos on Ou Kaapse Weg is nothing short of miraculous - a kaleidoscope of pink, orange, yellow and now an intense ultramine. The purple scabiosa is still carpeting the upper level and is best viewed from a 4x4 - at last, a use for one of those!
Passing through what was once Tokai forest, I was amazed to see dog-walkers and horseriders braving the heat - perhaps it's only me who doesn't enjoy the sun on my head! They certainly seemed at peace with the world.
As I look towards the Back Table from the deck - dinner al fresco - I can see smoke from a large fire, presumably the one that devastated large parts of the west coast in the last few days. Our local township suffered a huge loss of homes and belongings yesterday, and I joined the throng who headed to the Living Hope community hall where donations of food and clothing, bedding and basic necessities were being accepted and prepared for distribution. The displaced may not be sitting enjoying the best that life has to offer, but at least they are getting a small semblance of civilisation into their lives through the fine efforts of the South Peninsula communities, which never fail to impress with their charitable work when authorities don't necessarily step up to the plate. But I digress...
So I loaded up a trolley with buckets, soap, towels and facecloths and there was no room for the small bit of fruit and vegetable shopping I did at the mall. I lie - what really happened was that I simply forgot to take my bags when I left the till! I have to confess this has happened before, and once again nobody chased after me. One can only wonder. I was rescued by my son, who dragged himself off in the heat to go all the way back to the mall and retrieve the avocados and bacon. I thought I had dropped them off with the buckets at Living Hope!

Long ago

A difficult day
Filled with flashbacks of nostalgia
A redwing starling sang
And I was back in a summer's day
Clovelly, sheltered from the blustery
Summer wind where the birds gathered
So long ago, but a child
And Mother in the kitchen
Making a favourite meal
No more

Ramblings from the deck

I've moved from the couch to the balcony as the sun has edged towards the horizon and the shade is too pleasant to avoid. The view is of a few rooftops and then mountains all the way across to Table Mountain, as you will know by now. All is peaceful with no visible signs of human habitation from this angle, apart from the unobtrusive cableway building and a few stone buildings that are only visible when the setting sun reflects directly off the windows onto my deck.
Wispy cirrus clouds high overhead hint at a spectacular sunset, as if to punctuate the beauty of the day, and a gentle breeze wafts in from the Atlantic to entice us down to the rocks as the light fades and a waning moon rises in the east.
I could be alone on the planet, such is the lack of human activity around me. How pleasant.

And yet I can be equally at peace in the city on the other side of Table Mountain, where the heat of a hot summer's day gathers suffocatingly and then dissipates in the long twilight after the sun has disappeared behind this great chunk of sandstone that stands as a beacon to sailors past and present, drawing them in and providing succour from the often perilous journey round this south-western tip of the continent. There is an inexplicable magnetic quality to this mountain that affects all who live near it, that makes them miss it when they are gone, and can't wait to return to its warm embrace.
No wonder it's called the Mother City.

A good excuse to rest

I'm taking full advantage of the instruction to rest my foot and am reclining on the couch at the window, gazing up into the sky (what else can you see when you are reclining?) and enjoying the bird activity. High, high above, almost touching the clouds it seems, a lone seabird wheels idly on the thermals. Perhaps it is looking for a meal, but I think it more likely to be chilling on a quiet Saturday morning now that the frenzy of the sardine run of the last week is over. My fisherman friend was right - the sardines will disappear when the sea flattens. As soon as the wind swung to the southeast, they were gone, as were the screeching gulls to my relief - the soft squawk of the resident terns is far more easy on the ear!
A jackal buzzard chased a lesser raptor across the sky just now in a playful game of catch, as they both seemed to be enjoying the chase and counter-chase without any real intention of a kill. Perhaps a little practice warm-up before some earnest pigeon chasing later in the day? About 30 pigeons just swept by in a panic, so a raptor can't be far behind.
Even higher, swallows are criss-crossing the sky as they snap up the insects that are so prolific at present. Flying ants seem to abound and cling to the washing on the line, needing hand removal as they stubbornly refuse to detach themselves. A few hot days are forecast, so let's hope the birds do their job!
All this activity is making me tired - I think I'll have a pre-prandial nap!

The 'Share' icon

The possibilities for marketing on social media are huge, and yet they lie unused, at the whim or most likely lack of knowledge of most participants on Facebook or Twitter, to name some powerful arenas, quite simply because they do not click on the "Share" or 'Retweet' icons. Without this simple action, thousands of would-be entrepreneurs, artists, bloggers and others who just cannot afford advertising via the traditional methods are unable to get the word out. Imagine how far a post could reach if every 'friend' on social media 'shared' it with their friends, and their friends shared with their friends. Word could stretch across the world and someone in a far-off land, or perhaps just around the corner, could see a product that they would love to own, read a poem that someone has written that deserves formal publication or be in a position to launch the career of a struggling artist, simply through sharing a post.
I feel that we should all do whatever we can to assist others through life, particularly where it is justified and we are unable to assist financially. Who knows what fate has in store? But let's give a helping hand!
So if you see a post that you feel would not harm your reputation or offend anyone from a person who is trying to further their progress in life in whatever way, or has the potential to inspire others, give a thought to sharing and retweeting. Social media is not just for sharing our kitty photos.
You could be instrumental in changing someone's life!

Getting some variety in your day

Interspersed with slogging away at the computer, I had some really nice interactions (in real life) with good friends, acquaintances and a total stranger up at the local coffee shop. The laptop enabled me to sit in a corner and plod away while listening in on all the conversations going on around me without having to participate. It's an amazingly effective way to get the work done without feeling you're working, and certainly explains why there are so many people sitting in front of laptops in coffee shops all over the world. It's a way of socialising unsociably. Then when you close the laptop, you are already in the midst of the action with a willing waitron taking your order, already knowing you by name and anticipating your choice.
Getting out of the house also allows those who are at home to have a little personal space, something quite essential when there are four adults under the same roof all wanting to assert their personalities and rearrange the furniture to their taste! I get up early every day and enjoy a couple of me hours before there are stirrings from the other side of the house, and when it all gets too much, we set off in different directions in our cars for wherever takes our fancy. Carpe diem, I say. Don't put off the enjoyable things just because there is work to be done. The work will always be there, but the pleasure may not.

Blue skies of summer

The southeaster has returned, flattening the sea, clearing away the clouds and making us believe that summer is almost here. The screeching of gulls still drifts in from the bay, where sardines are still shoaling, although judging by the number of throw nets being cast yesterday, the run must be nearly over. I am fortunate enough to have been given two large yellowtail caught in False Bay and have a friendly fish cleaner who is filleting them as I write this - fish on the menu for a while then!
The garden is full of birds despite the best attempts of Mango Kitty to decimate the population, and the baby sunbird has turned out to be a male, with his brilliant iridescent plumage starting to replace the dull baby feathers. The pintailed whydah who so loves to admire his reflection in my window appears to have successfully attracted a mate and we can look forward to an addition to that little family.
The roses are bursting forth, my Shocking Sky having 6 fat buds, promising another spectacular display, while the tiny pink miniature has managed to survive the onslaught of hairy caterpillars that destroyed my parrot plant and is giving a joyous display under the hibiscus.
Mother's favourites, the Inca lily, have multiplied and bloomed like never before, and I can only think that she must be enjoying overseeing my gardening efforts, as everything she gave me over the years is flourishing in her memory.

Gone fishin'

We are enjoying unseasonally calm weather here in Cape Town. November is our month for the start of the howling southeaster, a wind that blows us off our feet, rids us of smog (the Cape Doctor), spreads pollen and hayfever far and wide, dessicates the garden and generally brings out the worst in people (far exceeding the capabilities of taxi drivers to do same). But we have been treated to light southerly to south westerly breezes, with occasional rain, and temperatures that hover around the 20 degree mark; extremely pleasant and conducive to all sorts of activities.

The last four days have seen a mini sardine run in the Kom and Sunday saw families with kayaks and little dinghies launching from the beach to scoop the little fish into nets and buckets. Some waited till low tide when they could just wade out to the trapped shoal, but there was plenty of competition in the reduced surface area from the large flock of gulls that has been vociferously squabbling over this rare treat.
Judging from photographs (in which you cannot see the people!), the larger fish were harvested on the first day, and even the terns are now diving elegantly into the bay to catch a meal. The size of the sardines didn't lure me to go wading in, as I didn't feel the effort involved in turning them into a meal would compensate for the spectacle of me slipping on a rock and disappearing under the water before such a large audience. Chasing fish with my bare hands is not on my skills list. Perhaps if anyone else had indicated that they would come with me and participate, I might have made the effort, but for now any sardines on our menu will come from a tin!

Sardine run!

There was a mini sardine run in the Kom on Thursday. The run was mini, not the sardines. They appeared to be of normal size. We were first alerted by flocks of gulls whirling overhead at dawn and during the day it became apparent that something unusual was going on. We seldom see gulls in this quantity, especially the large black-backed gull, and soon the throw-net experts were wading in and hauling in nets full of flapping fresh fish. Buckets were brought down to carry the catch home and in many households there are now women faced with sardines for the pan, the braai, the oven and as a last resort, salted and dried - the infamous bokkom! I am rather pleased that I am not one of them, as the prospect of prepariing small bony fish does not excite me. Give me a yellowfin tuna rather that I can carve up with a large knife!

Photos: Garnett Oosthuizen

The water has been unusually warm, which possibly caused the sardines to take a wrong turn somewhere and miss the trip up to Durban. It happened some years ago on a much larger scale and people still talk about it here in Kommetjie.

The birds are still bobbing in the bay, diving for smaller fish and squabbling over the catch, providing ample opportunity for photographers to snap their feeding habits for posterity. I took a picture, but unfortunately the mass of birds seemed to fade into obscurity against the grey sea and you can't get an idea of the scale of their presence, but here it is nonetheless.

Great things happening in the food world

The second half of yesterday was far more palatable than the first, as it involved an excellent light lunch at Oyo, V&A Waterfront Hotel, at the launch of Jenny Morris's latest cookery book, World Atlas of Food. The setting was incomparable, with natural wonder of the world, Table Mountain, as a backdrop and my favourite foreground, water with boats! There is nothing quite like the sights and smells associated with boating, from the tiniest rowboat to an ocean liner. I love it!

 

 
 The launch was to introduce the book to the media and everyone had their name tag and business name for some handy networking. I of course went as myself and had to admit that I was a friend of Jenny's and had no connection to anything in particular. However, in conversation with so many interesting people, it transpired that I did have something to offer and some excellent opportunities are headed my way. All it requires is motivation and dedication on my side.
As always, Jenny made a marvellous speech in her inimitable way that endears her to so many, and a special wine label dedicated to the Giggling Gourmet from Perdeberg Winery was also launched at the event. The chef at Oyo introduced himself and gave us the lowdown on his plans for the restaurant, which, if the canapes are anything to go by, will soon become the new place to eat in Cape Town. They were to die for!
An excellent venue, incomparable company and a book full of recipes that you and I can make with just about everything already in a well-stocked pantry and fridge - nothing too exotic or outrageous - will ensure the success of this latest venture.

A chance to reflect

Today was the culmination of three frustrating weeks of attemptng to renew three motor vehicle licences under the new system introduced by the City of Cape Town - who knows why - I think it is designed to bring out the worst in everyone who is now subjected to mountains of bureaucratic red tape at a time when the world needs to abolish such meaningless hogwash. No money-laundering scheme, child trafficking or terrorist incident is ever going to be prevented by my providing any institution with my proof of address. If I want to live under an unidentified rock in the wilderness they have no right to deny me renewal of my car licence. However...
Any irritation I may have felt or voiced on arrival at the municipal offices, where the queue wound around the contours of the building and the elderly needed to have seats provided for them, soon paled into insignificance with the performance of the woman in front of me. Having spent an hour letting us know she had just been to London to attend to passport matters (British), she then took it upon herself to let us all know that a young girl at one of the three counters had a pile of documents and was obviously attending to renewal on behalf of a number of people. She considered that a supervisor should be called to observe the clerks at work and demanded names and phone numbers of anyone in a senior position. We were then treated to a loud and officious phone call to some unfortunate individual in a back office who declined to put in an appearance and sensibly did not take any further calls.
Just when we thought it couldn't get any more cringeworthy, she rushed over to a young man who had gone to the counter without her having observed him in the line - I thought she was going to assault him, but the tongue lashing she gave him nearly drew blood. Turns out she was entirely mistaken, but uncowed. After two and a half hours, we finally had our turns at the windows. She had a document missing, and you should have heard the grovelling - talk about an about-face!
I did suggest to her that such events are sent to enable us to show the world who we really are - she assured me that she did yoga and meditated but still wanted to hit someone. I didn't tell her that her histrionics had enabled me to view the entire process in a different light and that I had become quite relaxed despite the long wait!
Heaven forbid that I should embarrass myself through such behaviour or belittle others so publicly.

A quick tour of the Peninsula

Another breathtaking Cape Town day!  Although I saw very little of it, being tied to my computer of late, same computer provides an awesome slide show of pictures past when in resting mode. I find myself constantly amazed by the beauty of this Fairest Cape in all the Circumference of the Globe and how very photogenic it is!